Every Kind of Knife
by GirlWithTheBrokenWings
Summary: What glitters wickedly in the sun, is notorious for dark kind of evil, and possesses a sharp, fatal blade?
1. Sisters of The Sword

**Hey, guys!**

**I **_**really**_** should be updating my other stories * ahem *, but this stuck in my mind! Some of this chapter uses words from another book, so don't charge into my house in the middle of the night waving flaming torches!**

**Disclaimer: Ally (And some) owns all (I'll come up with a more interesting one next time.)**

Cammie's POV

I have become invisible.

Imagine you are making your way along a bustling street in your hometown.

You push through the crowd, brushing me, but you still do not see me.

Perhaps you are walking alone through a deserted alleyway in a remote village.

You might walk past me and never notice.

I can move a silently as a ghost.

Unseen by the human eye.

And when I strike, I strike fast.

You could be dealt a deathly blow, yet never see who or what killed you.

But I would not draw my weapon against you.

Because to kill without reason, in cold blood, is against the code of spies.

And I am a spy.

Ah, I see you blink with surprise.

_A girl?_ You are thinking. _Surely a girl cannot become a_ _spy!_

But you are wrong.

My sisters and I have proved that girls can be spies.

Together we have honored our father's memory by treading the path of the spy, a path full of hardship, danger, and death.

It is strange to think that I once knew so little of danger, and nothing of death.

But now, death stalks me.

A dark shadow follows my every footstep, watches my every move.

I can hide from you in the streets, but I cannot hide from death.

Oh, yes. Death and I have come to know each other very well.

**Reminder: This is in progress. Would my readers be kind enough to review and tell me if I should continue? (P.S I won't be borrowing from the aforementioned book after this chapter.)**


	2. The Fatal Blow

**Hey! Sorry for not updating sooner! You know…I've been out…living… wfhfcaowu8eh. Oops. Sorry, my little sister just made me lose my writing sense, and I slammed the keyboard in frustration. I'm going to keep it there, I have no idea why.**

**Disclaimer: Since I lost my sense of writing, this disclaimer shall be another boring one.**

Cammie's POV

I step out into the sun, my face lifted, bouncing with excitement! Today, my uncle was coming for a visit!

"Oh, Cammie." My mother sighs in frustration and runs her hand through my hair.

"What are we to do with you?"

"Let me run wild?" I tease, knowing that she would do no such thing.

One of my sisters, Liz, appears beside me.

Her gleaming hair is brushed to perfection, and it is obvious that she had thought a great deal about her outfit.

I smile at her.

"Ah, Lizzie. Spent half an hour fixing up your outfit again, I see."

"Wait till you see Bex and Macey." She warns me.

"Did someone call our names?" I turn to see my gorgeous sisters (unlike me).

As usual, Macey's short, silky hair was fixed in a ponytail, and Bex's rippling locks have been attacked by her.

"Is he here yet?" Macey asks impatiently.

"Now I am." A voice rings through the air.

"Uncle Soloman!" The three of us rush toward him, screaming.

"Have you girls been training?" He chuckles. He knows that it is our greatest desire to prove that girls can too be spies, that we are too good enough.

"Yes!" We chorus.

"Where is your father?"

"Where he always is."

"Ah."

Today was a much cherished day, the day of out parents 20th anniversary.

"Can we come, too?" We beg. We have had this conversation many times, begging and pleading.

"No." He frowns. "Goodbye, girls."

He heads off into the house.

And The Idea, the one that will change our lives, forms.

I tap Liz on the shoulder, motioning her to the house.

She understands. She knows that I know many passageways inside the house, and one in particular may be useful.

We creep toward the house, Bex and Macey in quick pursuit.

Once there, I motion to a corner in the small, dark, dusty room.

My sisters peer through it and gasp. The corner is made of netting, so anyone who chooses to look through it may have a bird's eye view of the room.

Now, our uncle is thanking my dad. He reaches forward to hug him.

And it happens.

I watch in silent horror as my uncles removes a hidden, deadly knife from his pocket.

A fatal knife.

And, with one quick blow, blood is spreading through my beloved father's body.

**Sorry if it lacks detail, or whatever. As I said before, MY SISTER BLOCKED ME! I'll update faster if I get 10 reviews!**


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